


Caffeine + Trauma

by TetrodotoxinB



Series: Whumptober 2020 [23]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Day 23, Exhaustion, Fade to black sexual assault, Sexual Assault, While the assault is off-screen it's still really heavy, Whumptober 2020, dubcon, inability/unwillingness to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TetrodotoxinB/pseuds/TetrodotoxinB
Summary: Mac makes the sacrifice play.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947493
Comments: 24
Kudos: 57
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Caffeine + Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [aravenwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood) for her extreme kindness in being willing to beta all of these whumptober fills! Especially so since she's also writing her own (amazing!) fics too! Please go check her out and give her some love!!!

Mac can hear her crying — whimpers and sobs muffled by the rag in her mouth. He’s tried to comfort her, offering her reassurances that he can get them out, that someone always comes for him and that they’ll help her too, but it’s been eight hours and she won’t even make eye contact. She’s an adult but only barely, and she wasn’t prepared for some fling with a married senator to turn into kidnapping and corporate ransom. Sadly, Mac knows that a senator’s mistress is excellent leverage if you want someone on the House of Representatives Defense Subcommittee to sign your contract and not the other guy’s. 

The door to their basement cell opens and their captors — Sean and Brian, two ex-special operators from Ireland, now on retainer for GulfStream Defense Enterprises — smile. “Bad news, kids. Senator Kittler is claiming he’s never met you before. Guess that makes you fair game, lass.”

She starts shaking her head and screaming into the gag, not that the sound carries beyond the room, and Mac sees tears drip off her cheeks.

“You know, when my people come, you’re really going to regret this,” Mac says, hoping to buy some time. “Have you ever heard of Jack Dalton? He was a Delta with the US Army for twenty-two years before he moved into the private sector. He’s infiltrated more enemy bases, neutralized more enemies, and recovered more assets than you guys have ever heard of.”

“Well then why haven’t we heard of him?” Sean asks, looking rather bored by Mac’s informational speech.

“Isn’t that sort of the point?” Mac retorts.

Brian grunts, shrugs, and says, “Screw him. Grab the girl and let’s head upstairs.”

“Wait!” Mac shouts. “There’s nothing to be gained by hurting her. The senator might later agree to change his vote. But you also have to consider what this says about you.”

“About me?” Brian laughs. “Mate, I wanna get my dick wet. That’s really all there is to it.”

“And you can’t think of a single way to get that consensually? You know that consensual sex, especially if you were to hire a professional — of which there are many in this city — is often far better in performance compared to rape. Consensual partners are more enthusiastic and more willing to perform, especially in situations where the act itself might be a bit taboo or simply less enjoyable for one partner. You’ll likely find any encounter with her in this situation to be frustrating,” Mac explains.

“Are you Dr. Phil’s kid or something?” Sean asks. 

“No, I’m just pointing out the flaws in this particular plan of action,” Mac replies.

“Do you ever just shut up?” Brian interjects with a bit of snarl.

Mac knows now that he can’t drag this out long enough for Jack to get there and the number of available avenues for saving her from Brian and Sean has dropped to one. It’s not an option Mac particularly likes, but if he doesn’t at least try he’ll never be able to live with himself.

“I know one way you could shut me up,” Mac says steadily. His heart thuds in his chest so hard he thinks he might puke, or pass out, maybe both.

Brian and Sean exchange a look. “You offering what it sounds like?” Brian asks.

Mac licks his lips and swallows deliberately, just to make his adam’s apple bob. “If you promise to leave her alone, I can make it better than she would.”

“If you bite, I’ll put a bullet in both your heads,” Brian promises. 

Mac nods, not doubting the truth of the threat. “Fair enough.”

Sean tosses his gun to Brian and strides forward, unzipping his pants as he goes. The reality of what he’s agreed to do slams into Mac like a ton of bricks when Sean pulls himself out of his briefs. Mac’s stomach lurches and he gags, the fear turning his insides into knots. 

Sean threads his fingers into Mac’s hair and tugs him forward. “Open up.”

Mac closes his eyes and opens his mouth.

*****

Mac’s fingers drum endlessly on the bartop while he scribbles out another triple integral. The coffee maker on the counter across the kitchen beeps signalling fresh coffee, but it doesn’t register. He’s already had a whole pot of coffee and he’s not going to be any more awake than he already is, but awake and coherent aren’t the same thing. He wads up the paper, having yet again accidentally dropped a term half a page ago, and he starts the same equation over on another piece of paper.

“Hey, bud,” Jack says softly, and Mac flinches so violently that he nearly falls off the barstool and manages to painfully bang his knee on a bar bracket. “Ouch, you alright?”

Mac groans, rubbing his knee, and nods. “Yeah, it’ll just bruise.”

“Good about your knee. What about the rest of you?” Jack asks as he settles on the stool next to Mac.

Mac blinks a little, trying to wake up enough to parse the question. “Fine?” 

Jack frowns. “No, you’re not. It’s three am and you’re doing funny alphabet math, and badly if this pile of wadded up paper is any indication. How many cups of coffee deep are you?”

Mac scrubs his palms over his face. “A pot, give or take.”

“Mac,” Jack mutters, shaking his head. “Bud, you’ve been a mess ever since you got back from that op in DC. I know you left something out of your report. What happened? What are you hiding?”

This is absolutely the last shit Mac wants to talk about with Jack. Or with anyone really. “Jack, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“Right, fine. That’s why you’ve spent the last three nights up drinking coffee, doing bullshit stuff like cleaning the fridge and math I know you can do in your head. Whatever’s going on didn’t just happen. So talk to me.”

Mac’s brain just sort of freezes up like a cheap laptop with too little memory that’s running too many programs and it’s been three months since someone restarted it. He can’t think of a single thing except the truth and that’s not what he wants to talk about. 

“Pal, if you don’t give me something to work with I’m gonna start making assumptions, and nothing that’s coming to mind is good,” Jack says.

Shit. Shit shit _shit._ Mac rests his elbows on the bartop and puts his head in his hands. 

“Hey, hey,” Jack says in his ‘comfort the victim’ voice, and puts his hand on the back of Mac’s head. Mac can’t help the shudder at the thought of someone grabbing his hair again and Jack notices immediately. “Mac-” Jack’s voice sounds almost pleading and Mac can’t help but feel like he’s failed Jack. “Mac, buddy, did they- did they, uh, you know-”

“Rape me?” Mac spits. “Did they rape me? Is that what you’re trying to ask?”

Jack stills, his whole body motionless the way he gets as he looks down the scope of his rifle before a shot. “Yeah, Mac. That’s what I’m trying to ask.”

Mac scrubs his hands over his face roughly and slaps both palms down on the countertop. “Yes, alright. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No! Of course that’s not what I wanna hear! Why would you-?”

“Then, why did you ask, Jack?” Mac shouts.

“Because you’re not fine and I wanna know why,” Jack explains softly, and suddenly the room feels too quiet for Mac to yell anymore.

“I am fine, Jack. I’m fine. I went to a clinic. I got tested. I got the intake medical evals on the guys who held us, too. They’re clean. I’m fine,” Mac insists quietly.

Tentatively, Jack’s hand lands on Mac’s shoulder. “There’s more than one way not to be fine, Mac.”

Elbows back on the countertop, Mac rests his face in his palms. “Jack, what do you want from me?” he murmurs.

“I’m your overwatch, Mac. It’s my job to check on you if something’s not right, and bud, something ain’t right. You’re not sleeping. Either you can’t so you just stay up and drink coffee, or you don’t wanna so you stay up and drink coffee, and it’s not healthy. You can’t function like this,” Jack points out.

Jack’s right, though Mac hates to hear it. “Little of column A, little of column B,” Mac admits.

Jack nods. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Where you can’t sleep because of what you see when you dream, and even if you could sleep you wouldn’t want to. But right now you’re so tied up you couldn’t pour water out of boot if the instructions were written on the heel.”

Mac hangs his head and curls his fingers around the base of his skull. “I don’t know how to fix this. I can’t just take it back. It’s done. And I- I let them. I _offered._ And now, I’m not even hurt, but I can’t even deal with the consequences. I’m not sure how I should feel or what I should do. I just know that I can’t take a hot enough shower or gargle enough mouthwash to get them off of me.”

“I don’t wanna sound like a motivational poster you got from Hobby Lobby, but if you don’t talk about this, ain’t none of it gonna get any better, hoss.”

Tears roll down Mac cheeks and drip onto the countertop. “I’m trying, Jack. I just don’t know what to do.”

“No one does when something like this happens. But let’s loop someone in on this-”

“No! Please, Jack, don’t tell Matty,” Mac begs.

Jack puts his hands up like he’s surrendering. “Woah, woah. I’m not talking about work folks, Mac; I’m talking about I call my therapist in the morning and we get you an appointment with somebody who deals with this kinda thing. A professional. Someone who won’t talk to Matty after every appointment.”

Mac shakes his head, and chokes out a sob. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack scoots closer and wraps his arms around Mac. “Sorry for what, bud? For saving that girl? That’s what you did, right? That’s you what you meant by ‘you offered.’ Are you sorry for being brave? You think I think less of you?”

Mac presses his face into Jack’s shoulder. He’s kept it together in front of everyone — no tears, no indication to any that something had happened — but here with Jack and carrying three nights of sleep debt, Mac can’t do anything but cry. He shakes in Jack’s arms, sobs wracking his slight frame. 

“That’s it, Mac, just cry it out. I got you, hoss. I got you,” Jack murmurs. 

_Nothing to be sorry for._

The idea turns itself over and over and over in Mac’s mind. He doesn’t quite believe it, hell, he can’t even really process the idea while he’s so overwrought and exhausted. But knowing that Jack believes it, believes that Mac’s brave, that Mac’s someone to be proud of — Mac doesn’t feel so hopeless. Maybe he can’t save himself, but Jack can save him — he’s done it so many times before. 

Buoyed by the reassurance that nothing is going to change between them, Mac sits up from Jack’s embrace and wipes his tears. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Always. Now do you wanna give up on this weird math stuff? Half of this isn’t even numbers or letters. Like what are those little squiggly things on the left side? I think you made those up,” Jack declares, holding Mac’s flailing attempt at exhausted differential calculus up to the light like a film negative.

“It’s called an ‘integral,’ Jack. And yes, I’m done for the night,” Mac answers, still sniffling.

Jack claps his hands together. “Great. Die Hard marathon. You need a blanket? I’m getting me one.”

Mac smiles a little weakly. “Yeah, a blanket would be nice.”

Five minutes into the first movie and Mac’s out like a light, despite having consumed approximately nine hundred milligrams of caffeine over the last five hours. Jack covers him with another blanket and Mac settles deeper into the sofa, feeling safer than he has since DC.


End file.
